Christmas Tears
by SiddyQ
Summary: Families shouldn't be divided on Christmas


Ok this story just came out of nowhere on Christmas Eve and wouldn't stop bugging me till I wrote it. So here you are, and for those of you who don't know the characters in here...read Tom Sawyer!! sighs I can't believe that I wrote this on Christmas Eve!!

Oh and no I don't own LXG or Sid...sadly

* * *

The air was like a crystal, clear and bright. The lantern lights glinted warmly off of the pearly snow that covered the streets of New York in a soft blanket, muffling all the noise and dirt of the city. There were no cabs or people on the street; it seemed that everyone was warm inside their homes with their families, celebrating Christmas Eve. 

The sound of dragging feet broke the silence as they shuffled aimlessly down the middle of street. With shoulders hunched and head bowed, he stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. He had known this day was coming, but no amount of warning had prepared him for the heart-ripping emptiness that he felt. With a sigh, he looked up as the light from a window attracted his eye. He found his feet carrying him toward it till he was standing directly under it; peering through its glassy panes he could see a beautiful Christmas tree, fully decorated and lit with candles. As he gazed at the tree, two young boys charged into the room shouting and laughing; each insisting that it was his turn to put the star on top this year.

As the young man watched the boys he felt his throat catch; memories began to run through his head and, as he watched the boys, everything seemed to change. Suddenly he found himself looking in on his own Christmas, from years ago. A tear trickled down his face as he watched a younger image of himself and his brother arguing over whose present was the biggest. Mary and Aunt Polly swept into the room at that moment, ending the banter with a plate of Christmas cookies. This was the one time of year when the Sawyer brothers had actually gotten along for the most part, and some years they had even made sure to get good gifts for each other, or had worked together to get something really good for Aunt Polly. The memory soon faded and the boys changed back into who they really were. The younger one looked up and saw Sid looking in the window. Curious, he moved away from his brother and walked over to the window, placing his hands on the glass. After what seemed like hours, the boy turned away from the window hearing his mother walk into the room.

"Mama," he called, "there's a boy outside our window, and he's crying!" The little boy sounded upset, so his mother moved quickly over to the window.

"Where is he, child?" she asked, looking around. Her son looked wildly around before pointing off down the street.

"There! That's him!" The mother watched the hunched shoulders of the teenager as he walked away and felt a pang of sorrow for the stranger, her arm going around her own boy as they turned back to their Christmas.

The tears were still running down Sid's cheeks as he walked quickly down the street. All he wanted at that moment was to have his Aunt pull him into her arms and tell him this was all just a bad dream, and that Tom and Mary were waiting downstairs to open presents. But that was impossible -- she was dead, Tom was off somewhere in the service, and Mary was spending Christmas with Aunt Sally. It was true that she had invited him to come home for Christmas but she had also written that she had invited Tom to come home too. The bitterness between the brothers was still fresh, and Sid didn't dare go home if Tom would be there; he didn't want to end up bloody and bruised like the last time. Nor did he want to go to Aunt Polly's grave, for he missed her far too much.

Rounding the corner he stopped as he heard the rowdy sounds of a pub. Sighing, he headed in the direction of the off-pitch Christmas carols, pulling his cap down farther over his face. He paused outside one of the small windows that were on either side of the door. There was another man looking into the other window, but Sid paid him no mind. He finally turned and headed toward the tiny room that he called his own, deciding that, since he had never had a drink before in his life, now wasn't a good time to start. The other man seemed to have decided the same thing, as he moved away from the other window. Their shoulders brushed in passing, and Sid muttered an apology before continuing on his way, still fighting the wave of tears that had overtaken him earlier.

* * *

Tom Sawyer had stared into the window of the pub for what had seemed like hours, but he couldn't bring himself to go in. He knew that Huck would come after him in an hour, but he still couldn't make his feet move. The wave of emptiness that had been eating at him all day was stronger than ever, and all he wanted to do was get rid of it, but he knew that this wasn't the way. Aunt Polly would have been heartbroken if he had done something like that; her recent death still weighed heavy on the young agent's heart. 

He didn't look up as the young man moved to the other window; probably some other poor guy like him without a family on Christmas, he thought. Finally making up his mind not to drink, Tom moved away from the window, brushing shoulders with the other young man who seemed to have decided the same thing. He heard him mutter an apology and nodded in response, though Tom guessed that he didn't see it. Pulling his hat down over his head he made sure the collar of his coat was still pulled up around his neck before stuffing his hands into his pockets and heading out through the city streets, trying hard not to think about where he really should be on Christmas Eve.


End file.
